


Mama, Life Had Just Begun

by junior_writes



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Ending, America, California, M/M, No Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 03:57:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junior_writes/pseuds/junior_writes
Summary: Simon has made it his life mission to track down his birth parents. After diligent work and hours rummaging through the Watford archives, Simon finds her: Lucy Salisbury. What will Simon and Baz find out when they go to San Diego to track her down?* I will not be completing this fic, sorry :/*





	Mama, Life Had Just Begun

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, welcome to my first fic! I've never written fan fiction before, this is so exciting! In all honesty, this is for a school project, but like I had a limit to five pages, and I couldn't contain myself, so I wrote the whole plot I had in my head and figured I could publish it here and any references to Carry On wouldn't be lost. I really hope you enjoy it!

**Simon**

Baz walks into our flat. My heart begins to flutter and my wings tense up. This always happens when he walks into the room. Crowley, I’m so in love with him. He walks towards the desk where I’m sitting and places his hands on my shoulders, leaning over to kiss the mole on my cheek, as he does every time he comes from work.

“How’s the research going, love?” He asks, gently rubbing my shoulders as I continue scribbling notes on a pad and flipping through decades-old files.

“I’m close, Baz. I can feel it.” Since I left Watford, I’ve made it my life mission to find my birth parents. I figured they must have gone to Watford, so I began looking through old student records to maybe connect someone to me. Headmistress Bunce gave me open access to the Watford records when she caught me sneaking around in the library. I’ve been tracing my history backwards, starting at the home The Mage found me at when I was eleven, to the fire department I had been left in a basket with nothing but a blue blanket and the words Simon Snow written on my arm. I’ve looked a security footage of the fire department from that day, and have done handwriting analysis (more so like I looked at the photograph of the handwriting on arm and compared it to old school projects done and saw which was most similar).

“I believe in you. If you would like, I can ask Fiona if she might know who your parents are,” Baz says from the kitchen island, where he’s already chopping vegetables for our dinner.

“That’s okay, I don’t want many people knowing, it’s enough that the head of the damn Coven knows that I’m looking for my parents. Besides, I already have a name,” I get up from my desk, arching my back forward, and my wings expand outward, stretching. I hadn’t realized how long I had been sitting at my desk. I take my laptop to the kitchen island and turn it towards Baz. “I’ve looked at the security footage of the fire department of that day, matched the lady’s face to a student who graduated in 1991.”

“That’s the year Fiona graduated,” Baz says, looking at my computer while still chopping carrots.

“Her name is Lucy Salisbury. I searched through Facebook profiles, and I found her.” I show him her profile page. She looks exactly the same in her Facebook picture as she does in her Watford graduation picture, just nearly 30 years older. “She lives in San Diego, and she works at this indie bookstore. I’ve already purchased tickets for us to fly there.”

“You’re going to meet her?” Baz asks me. This time, he puts the knife down and rests his hand over mine. He looks concerned, like he’s afraid that if I meet her, she won’t live up to my expectations. But the reality is, I’ve never had any expectations for her.

“Baz, I have to. I need to know her. I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t.”

Baz faces me and cups my face in his hands. He kisses me, then pulls away and smiles. Baz only ever smiles like that when he’s around me. “Well then, Simon, let’s get packing. We’re going to California.”

**Baz**

The flight to California was a long one, a little over eleven hours long. I had to spell Simon’s wings so they would practically disappear, for the convenience of himself and the others. Could you imagine a flight full of Normals with a gay couple consisting of a boy with no magic and red, leather dragon wings and vampire who can manipulate magic? What a riot that would cause. Simon spends most of the time watching downloaded episodes of Criminal Minds on his laptop. He lifted the armrest between us, allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder, our hands intertwined.

When we exit the airport, I’m immediately inclined to put on my sunglasses. I knew it was hotter in California than it was in London, but I never imagined that they’d crank up the sun by a million degrees here. Simon calls us a cab, and we hop into the back seat.  
After we check into our hotel room, I throw myself onto the bed, finally relaxing after an excruciating plane ride and taxi trip. I expect Simon to lay down next to me, he looks exhausted, but the first thing he does is sit at the desk and pull his laptop out of his bag. “Si, don’t you wanna get some rest? You barely slept on the flight,” I ask him, propping myself up on my elbows.

Simon is typing away on his computer. “I’m alright, Love. I wanna make sure I have the correct address for my mothe- I mean, Lucy.”  
“Well, would you at least like me to let your wings out? They must be in dire need of a stretch.”

“Uh, okay.” I get up from the bed and head towards Simon. He stops typing and sits up straight as I place my hands on his shoulder blades. I mutter the spell, and his wings practically materialize out of thin air. They immediately expand outward. _Poor thing_, I think to myself, _his back probably hurts out of his mind._ Simon reaches for my hand, then starts rubbing it with his thumb.

“She works at this bookstore called Windsor Books. It’s about a ten minute tube ride and a five minute walk from here. She co-owns it with some other lady,” he says, pointing at the computer screen, showing me the stores website. “I think we should go today.”  
He looks up at me, dark circles forming under his eyes. He hasn’t slept since we left London, and I’m fairly certain he hasn’t eaten much since.

“Simon, it’s late, and you’re tired. I understand that you really want to meet her, but maybe it’s best if you just get something to eat and get some rest. That way you’ll have more energy. We can go first thing in the morning,” I tell him. He nods, turning back to his laptop and shuts it. He stands up and hugs me.

“Thank you. For everything, for coming with me,” he says into my shoulder. We separate, and he looks at me, hands still on my shoulders. “I love you, Baz.” He lets go of me and begins walking towards the bathroom.

**Simon**

Baz and I arrive to Lucy’s bookstore around 4 pm. The original plan was to get there a lot earlier, but sleep deprivation and jet lag won that battle. We walk down the quiet street hand in hand. I’m pulling at my hair, my nerves getting the best of me. Baz squeezes my hand, a silent signal between the two of us, reassuring me that everything will be fine.

As we approach the entrance to the bookstore, I stop and face Baz. “You know, I think it might be best, if maybe,” I say, looking down at my shoes, “You stayed out here? While I go inside, at least. This is something I need to do on my own.” I look at him. He’s giving me a soft smile, and I know he completely understands. He pulls me into a gentle kiss before letting go of my hand. I turn around, take a deep breath, and walk into the bookstore.

The store is everything I imagined it to be. It’s quaint and simple, with lines of shelves evenly spaced between each other. In the center of the store is a small, circular desk with a register and various stacks of books and papers neatly laid out all over the desk. Behind it is a woman working on some papers. I immediately know that she’s who I’m looking for. She has long, golden hair, wavy in a way that mimics mine. She’s short, not a hair over five-three. There a light freckles splattered all over her face. I’m a carbon copy of her.

“Hi there. Welcome to Windsor Books. If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask,” she says from the desk, barely looking at me. I smile at her and continue to pace the store, trying to come up with what to say. I grab a random novel from the New Releases section and head towards the desk.

“All set?” She asks me. I nod, trying to make eye contact with her. She scans the book and proceeds to pull out a bag from behind the desk. “Well, your total is twenty-four ninety five.” She looks at me smiling. I stare at her, unable to get myself to say something, to bring it to her attention that I am her son. She raises her eyebrows at me, and I’m snapped back to reality.

“Crowley, yes, I apologize,” I say as a fumble for my wallet. I hand her my debit card. “Lucy, huh? That’s my mother’s name. I haven’t seen her in years.” She looks at me and offers me an apathetic smile, I'm sure she gives all customers who overshare, as she continues bagging my book. She swipes my card, and she takes a look at it. I can see her eyes going over the words Simon Snow on the plastic. She places the card down, looks at me, and raises her hand over her mouth, in awe.

“Hi, Mum.”

**Baz**

I’m leaning against the concrete wall of the bookstore, waiting for Simon to return. I’m not sure how long I expected this to take, but I’m beginning to feel anxious waiting for him. So many things could happen. Lucy could want absolutely nothing to do with Simon. Simon might freak out and not say anything at all. This Lucy may not even be Simon’s mother. All of these are scenarios that can happen. 

I hear the bell hung over the door jingle as Simon walks out of the store, pulling on a curl, a plastic bag in his hand. He turns to be, and then comes barreling into my arms. I regain my balance and wrap my arms around his torso. I’m rubbing his back when I feel him nuzzle his face into my neck. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” he says, his voice muffled. I nod lightly. He releases himself from my embrace. “She gets off in one hour. She invited us over to her flat for tea. She said she would give me a full explanation of why she left me. Please come with me. There’s absolutely no way I could sit in that room, just the two of us.”

“Love, you don’t even have to ask. Of course I’ll go with you,” I respond, and he smiles gently. 

About two hours later, Simon and I are sitting in Lucy’s flat. Simon is beside me, his leg bouncing up and down while he pulls on one of his curls. He’s so nervous. I place my hand on Simon’s thigh, to help him with his jitters, to remind him he’s not alone. 

“Remember, love, we can leave at any moment, okay? You just say the word.” I tell him. He turns to me, nodding, and then proceeds to take my hand off his thigh, interlocking his fingers with mine. Lucy then comes in, a tray with a tea pot and cups in hand. She places it on the coffee table in front of us, and sits in a chair across from us. 

“Um, wow, I don’t know where to even begin,” she says, letting out a nervous chuckle. She’s pulling on a piece of hair. She and Simon are more alike than I could’ve ever imagined. 

“From the beginning, from the moment you left me,” Simon breaks the silence. His brows are slightly furrowed, and he’s stopped bouncing his leg.

“Your father and I met our sixth year at Watford. We had a budding relationship. We would play pranks on our friends, sneak out past curfew, break into the kitchen and steal snacks, you name it. It was just me and Davy against the world, you know? Towards the end of our seventh year, we started dating. Your father swept me off my feet, showering me with romance like you wouldn’t believe. After we graduated, he and I moved into a small cottage a couple miles south of Watford. I never noticed it at first, but he began isolating me from my family. We never saw our friends from school, never went out. He would even spell us food, just so we wouldn’t have to go grocery shopping. I did little things to entertain myself; I took up knitting, I raised a few chickens, I began baking. The best thing I could make were cherry scones, those were my favorites. Your father spent all of his time at his desk, surrounded by century old books he would steal from the Watford library and archives. When I would ask him what he was doing, all he would say was, ‘Don’t worry, darling, I’m working on something big.’ I was stupid enough to believe him.

“Simon, I would just like to say that I am deeply sorry for ever leaving you. But I would like to clarify, I never wanted to. It was all your father’s idea. He said it was part of the plan,” Lucy sighs, looking down. “Davy promised me the world, you know. He said that he and I would make the ‘Greatest Mage’, and that we would have everything we could ever want. He and I were always two of the most powerful mages at Watford in our class. I never realized how power hungry Davy truly was. I never imagined that his plan would come with such a great cost.”

“That doesn’t answer anything,” Simon snaps. “You could’ve come back for me. You could’ve defied whatever plan my father had for you two and you could’ve raised me. I wouldn’t have been an orphan.”

“Yes, Simon, I understand that, and believe me, I definitely contemplated doing so. But the thing is, Simon, that through all the rituals and spells and remedies your father made me go through during my pregnancy,” she pauses, looking down at the strand of hair she hasn’t been able to stop caressing, “I began to lose my magic. I could feel it all balled up inside of me, right in my stomach, but it felt like a pressure plate was pushing onto me. I knew it was there, but I lost the ability to manipulate it. It wasn’t until you were born that I realized that the magic inside of me was no longer mine. It all went away the second I saw your father holding you in his arms. 

“I knew your father’s plan worked. I could practically see the magic radiating off of you. You had a thick golden aura from the minute I saw you. I wouldn’t have been able to carry the burden of raising the world’s most powerful mage in a world without magic. And your father had this elaborate plan, where he was going to come back for you when he had a high enough political position and when your magic was ready. He said that no one could know that the saviour was already born. He had it in his head that they would want to take you from us right word got out. He promised me that he would come back for you.”

I begin to wonder what is going on in Simon’s head. I can practically see the gears turning inside of him, trying to piece together every point of Lucy’s story. 

“He was going to come back for me? I don’t understand. The only person who found me and took me to Watford was… the Mage.” I can tell that he’s angry now. His grip is getting tighter on my hand. He’s put all the pieces together, and he doesn’t like the end result. “Are you telling me that the Mage, the _ goddamn leader of Magicians, _is my birth father?!” I start thinking of Watford, of how Simon was named the Mage’s heir when he started, just to get into the school, but really was the Mage’s son all along. I think about the events of Christmas four years ago. About how long it took Simon to come to terms with the fact that he might have been the main cause of the Mage’s death. Simon blamed himself for the longest time, even after the Coven cleared him of all faults. It was never proven that Simon killed the Mage, but Simon remained pinning the blame on himself. And now he’s here, sitting across the woman who gave him up, realizing that he killed his father. 

Simon loosens his grip on my hand, to the point where it’s limp in my grasp. “I killed my father,” Simon mumbles under his breath. Lucy looks up, eyes wide, a sign of despair coming from her expression. She and Simon have the same eyes, crystal blue, like the sky on a clear day. 

“Davy’s dead?” Lucy asks. Simon won’t look at her. She clearly hasn’t been kept up to date with what has happened in the World of Mages. Simon’s leg starts bouncing again, and I can hear his heart beating faster and faster. He’s starting to hyperventilate. 

“I think it’s best if we leave,” I say, standing up and looking at Simon. He stands, eyes still focused on the floor, one hand pulling at a curl. “Thank you very much, Lucy, for the tea and for everything.” I lead Simon to the door. We walk back towards the train station, my arm around Simon’s waist the entire time, offering the support he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> So, what did you think? I kind of think it's a bit short, but hey, we all have to start somewhere. 
> 
> I take constructive criticism! Anything you have to say is always welcome. 
> 
> Really hope you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
